


South Side Story

by Be_the_Spark



Category: Riverdale - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Grease-inspired, Intrigue, Multi, Musical, new characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Be_the_Spark/pseuds/Be_the_Spark
Summary: The new girl at South Side High seems like a preppy, but Betty's determined to earn her own rep without ruining her boyfriend's. Jughead is watching his back, because finding a place within the South Side Serpents was the easy part. Can he keep his cred, his girl, and his creative hand in the upcoming school musical hidden?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bugheadotp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugheadotp/gifts).



> Stopped into a church I passed along the way  
> Well I got down on my knees and I pretend to pray  
> You know the preacher liked the cold  
> He knows I'm gonna stay
> 
> -California Dreamin' (The Mamas and the Papas)

From a number of ways to look at it, getting into prison was easy. Whether you were committing a felony or getting a job in the justice department, seeing the inside of a cell wasn't the challenge. Getting out was. Overturning a conviction would take a miracle - but instead of walking on water to make it happen, it required somebody who was willing to play dirty, to walk through hellfire for the pot of gold.

And for a convict with Riverdale roots, it required Josh Muddock. 

He had the third biggest house in the South Side area, with an old-school black Cadillac parked in an upswept driveway. His neighbors in the smaller houses had nicknamed him the King of the Anthill soon after he'd moved there, but they weren't reaching high enough for him. Although he'd offer no help on it, he was waiting for them to begin referring to him as The Mudroller.

On a balmy June night, the sun was setting outside Figaro's Italian Restaurant in an orange-pink haze, spilling through the sky like melting tropical sherbet punch. Muddock wasn't allowed to appreciate the beauty from the window of his booth, not when his last name had Mud in it, and certainly not when he was meeting a boss character straight out of a Scorsese film.

The man sitting across from him, in a black suit and steel-toed shoes that very possibly could have just come back from a funeral, said quietly, "What do you want to be remembered as?"

A philosophical question. _Oh jeez, not one of those guys_ , he thought with a suppressed groan. If a Godfather-type who recited poetry while slitting throats was asking for his services, Muddock might as well call for the check. He answered, "I'd rather not have lifelong recognition for the things that I do, Jasper. Save that for the Ivy Leaguers and the parents living vicariously through them."

The light of intrigue that had been in Jasper McTeach's eyes until now dulled with Muddock's response, disappointment turning them a glassy grayish-blue. Despite a lack of wrinkles in his skin, the stringy white hair running from the top of his head to his shoulders made him seem older than his forty-five years. "How old are you, Muddock?"

The lawyer kept his tone at a careful speed, hyperconscious that any personal information he gave McTeach could be used against him. "Just turned twenty-five."

The other man nodded, as if he'd answered a separate question for himself. "You still have time. Enough for some ambition. I want you to do a good turn for my people."

Muddock took a swig of the scotch left over from Happy Hour. "I don't do good turns."

Had McTeach kept a Medusa in his pocket, Muddock had no doubt he would have been left behind at Figaro's as a very unambitious statue. With his words hollow of any further sentiment, the man now assumed a deadly professionalism. "You'd do a solid mil, though, wouldn't you?"

As they sat across one another in negotiations, the summer evening's golden sky shrank, shrank shrank…until there was nothing left from the day save for the offer on the table and the other question swept under the rug.

 

"Twenty-four hours," Muddock sighed, detached with mild annoyance. He had one day to accept that deal. But he never went into a contract unless he could find a way to deliver on it - he preferred his pinkies on his hands and feet, and so tended not to mess around with the sharks.  _Besides_ , he thought, a Mona Lisa smile finding its way onto his mouth, _with the way that conversation went, I'm sure he'd give me five hundred grand just to figure out what to do with my life._

What to do with his life indeed? All briefcases and Happy Hour barhopping. He didn't cook, never hosted, and reserved cleaning strictly for Sundays. He used the house for sleeping between work, and occasionally the library that took up four entire rooms downstairs.

 _Who needs a house to be a home, anyhow?_ he wondered.

And then the doorbell rang.

It was the Twilight Zone for Muddock, who was contentedly unpopular with both people and dogs. He turned the marble door handle to find a teenage girl standing behind the screen panel. Tall, blonde ponytail, with apprehension hiding poorly behind pale turquoise eyes. Apprehension - and pain.

"Are you Joshua Muddock?" she whispered, her face veered slightly away from him.

Muddock had worked with enough personalities to detect a soul that was ready to drown. Despite the well-being of what was left of his evening, he said, "Can I help you?" and switched the porch light on.

The girl flinched, drawing Muddock's eyes to something he hadn't noticed before in the cloak of a starless dusk. The porch light illuminated a shadowy mark on her cheek - a bruise.

Chills coursed through his bones, even though the night was still quite warm. "Are you all right?" he asked, the lack of answer haunting him. And that wasn't all. Something seemed familiar about this girl. He wanted to dig around his archive of newspapers until a name rang a bell, but not until he knew why she'd shown up at his doorstep.

She bit her lip, rolling around her eyes to avoid the drop of her own tears. "I need to get away from my parents."

Child abusers? Muddock had notoriously low standards, but there was his line. Call it post-traumatic stress from his days of being shuffled around by the foster system, but he could already see himself breaking out of his mold and "doing a good turn."  But it was she who had found him…and he swore he could just nearly place her from somewhere. "Why do you think that I can help with your parents?"

"Because," she said shaking, ready to break, "they're your parents too."

Muddock stepped backwards at once, wildly looking around. "Sorry," he gasped. "Did you see a brick fall out of the sky? I'm pretty sure it just hit me on the head!"

He resettled his focus on the girl that was merely staring back at him, dead-eyed and vulnerable. He couldn't even joke with her. _Damn it._ Resigned, he opened the screen door. "Do you want to come in?"  Now he knew where he recognized her from - Elizabeth Cooper, publisher of the first-ever South Side Serpent-friendly feature for Riverdale High's school newspaper. "You know, I printed that article because I kept going back to _The Blue and Gold's_ online website to read it again," he said, deeming his exaggeration healthy. Keeping tabs on the word around the crime rings was in fact an occupational necessity, but if anyone needed the boost it was the teenage girl marked by the superb backhand, right? And if that didn't work, well, he had about six different kinds of energy drinks in the fridge.

"I should have called first," she began, staring at the can of Monster he'd placed in front of her.

"Not that you're waking anyone up here…but why didn't you?"

Elizabeth moved her jaw, either about to explain or cry…then did neither. Muddock recognized this sort of behavior. She was lost, in shock. Ready to stop existing. "I thought you'd tell me to leave you alone," she finally said, straining back a sob.

Muddock watched as she sunk her face into her folded arms. He glowered, feeling like an ass for it, but unable to think of anything more helpful to do. He'd been put up for adoption as a newborn, yet after a string of bad luck with both adopted and foster parents, he'd taken it upon himself to seek the identities of his birth parents: The Coopers. Journalist power couple, and the closest thing that Riverdale's middle class had to royalty. The perfect family, complete with a beautiful set of sisters. His sisters. The very picture of it all had made him tingle with spite.

Regardless of his feelings, Muddock continued to have his ear to the ground. He learned that Alice Cooper had grown up on the South Side with the Serpents, and he was fairly certain that they knew more about her than her own daughters did. And so here he was, sitting in a chair across from his little sister Betty, knowing that their mother was a sham; knowing all about that convent/rehab center their sister Polly had been sent to when she became pregnant; and now he knew the worst had happened - that in some way, his birth parents were hurting their other children.

As Betty took a long sip of her energy drink, Muddock considered something else that he knew. He then asked Betty, "So are you looking for a place to stay the night? Legal advice? Just so you know, I'm not a particularly decent person."

"At least you're honest about it," she muttered. He decided then that he liked her, probably more than he'd liked any human being in awhile. "It was an accident. I know it was an accident. My - she doesn't take the Joan Crawford thing that far. But I was just so, so sick of her violating my privacy. There she was, holding out my diary, reading passages from it aloud and then punishing me for keeping secrets. I reached for it…" Betty raised her eyes to his. Muddock had never seen anyone so utterly drained before.

"What can I do for you?" Surprisingly, he realized he did want to do something for her, and not just for the favor she could return for him. He really, truly wanted to do his baby sister a good turn.

Betty shrugged. "I don't know. Restraining order? Legal emancipation?"

He could see where this plan was heading for her. For them both. "What happens if you don't find what you're looking for?" She was silent again. He bowed out momentarily and went to the fridge. Upon his return, a can of Red Bull in hand, he found Betty getting to her feet. "Whoa." He whistled. "Was it something I said?"  

"No, it's what you didn't say," she replied, zipping up her pink hoodie. "I shouldn't have bothered you, I'll leave right now -."

"Or you can sit back down," he cut it, "and I'll tell you my idea."

Betty, however, remained standing, her arms now folded in impatience. "I have friends I can stay with too."

"And I'm sure they are much better at helping than I am," he agreed, his smarmy attorney mojo running his mouth now. "But at the end of the day, Betty, they are just some more high school students. I can get you that restraining order. I can even get you legally emancipated from Mom and Dad. But I can also do better than that."

The doubt in Betty's expression flickered with bemusement. "What?"

"I can, upon certain conditions, offer you a place of residence, for as long as it takes to finish out your junior and senior years."

 _Voila_ , his inner Mudroller chimed. His gut felt odd, though, like someone had dropped a stone in it - had he eaten something raw at dinner?

He hadn't eaten anything at dinner.

Unfamiliar to this intestinal crisis, his sister looked around, cautious but excited. "Me - live here?"

"No rent necessary."

"Then what are the conditions?"

Muddock had never interacted with his sister before now, but he was aware that she was smart. She was good. And he'd rather play ball with a top billed name than a day player. Betty was connected, ridiculously, conveniently connected, to just about everyone in town. She was perfect.

"Why don't you sit back down," he said again, "and I'll tell you how you can help me make one million dollars."


	2. Pure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a passenger  
> And I ride and I ride  
> I ride through the city's backside  
> I see the stars come out of the sky
> 
> -The Passenger (Iggy Pop)

September 2017

 

She'd known there were going to be looks. 

It was the car. A plum-colored 1960 Ford Thunderbird that would have been a status elevator at Riverdale High; instead Betty knew, just _knew_ , that in its pretentious purple glory, it was going to be a hate magnet at South Side.

_Fun fun fun_.

Where did Josh even get this? Her brother was born in 1982, so he'd missed auditioning for the Beach Boys by a few decades.

Rolling such flashy wheels up to a high school that had all the grey charm of a cement block was more or less an open letter reading _Dear South Side peasants, feast your eyes on this magical machine that your scrapped together college funds could not afford._ By the way her fellow soon-to-be classmates were eye-stalking her in the parking lot, Betty had a feeling she'd be intensively washing the now-gleaming T-Bird when she got home.

A glint winked from her rearview mirror, indicating something sparkly was behind her. A cherry-red Mustang accompanied by an empty parking space. Better sticking out as two sore thumbs than one, she thought, pulling in.

_BRRRNG!_ The warning bell for homeroom had sung its overture. It was officially Day One.

 

 

Unlike other educational institutions, South Side High preferred its hazing concentrated and administered on a student's first day. It was really all about testing to see where they emerged from the adversity - the tables in the cafeteria were not for the weak. 

Passing through the metal detectors like a breeze, Toni Topaz thought to herself how lucky she was to not be new. She wasn't weak either - she'd already established herself among the Serpents - but she still didn't envy the newbie vibe.

Speaking of which, she also had a job to do. As she bent down to rummage through her backpack, ideas milled about inside her mind, each one as lame as the next. At least she'd have until the end of homeroom to figure it out.

 "How is it you already have crap in there?" a voice asked over her head.

Toni let out a frustrated moan. "Remember the joints I was gonna pawn off?"

"Uh huh?" 

"Gone. Just gone, Mick." She snapped to her feet and brushed the pink choppy hair off of her forehead. "Jasper's gonna kill me."

Mick seemed unconcerned. "I'll talk to him."

Sometimes she wondered how far she would have gotten in with the Serpents if she hadn't had Mick on her side. For a kid their age, he was both high ranking and generous with it. Also, most irkingly even-tempered.

"Hey Mickey? Does a drag race to Riverdale sound good for rep building?"

"Hmm." His blue eyes squinted, considering. "Without being flagged down by Riverdale P.D., then yeah I guess. You kind of suck at it though."

Toni rolled her eyes. "Not for me, loser. For Jughead."

Jughead Jones came into the Serpents after his father, a VIP in their community, went to jail. He'd been offered a lightened sentence for turning informant on the Serpents, but FP Jones had merely hung back, declaring he was no snitch. Jughead was brought into the fold from there, but you didn't truly become a Serpent until you started acting like one. That was where he needed some help.

Mick slanted his shoulders. "That's what I meant, Toni. If you can't hack it, how're you gonna teach the new kid?"

Toni was about to respond when a girl she'd never seen before walked into the room. She headed straight for the back corner, the opposite end of where Toni and Mick were sitting. "Speaking of new kids," she mused, eyeing the girl's pink sweater and white Converse sneakers. Her hair was scooped back into a high ponytail. Toni didn't think she'd ever seen anyone so adorable.

Mick caught the look she was casting in that direction and said bluntly, "No."

A startled Toni turned to him. "Do you know anything about her?"

  
"Other than how she's not for you?" Mick blew some air through his lips. "What do you think you're looking at, anyways?"

  
Toni gave a wistful smile. "Something pure." But she didn't have to be told twice. She could tell already that she wasn't the girl's type. Refocusing on the previous topic, she pointed out, "Well, you race. Why don't you pitch in for your friend?"

  
He gave an uncharacteristic snort at this suggestion. "He's your project, remember? I don't see the need for any of it. He's in. He doesn't want to run shipments or defend our territory. Jones has already got what he wants out of us."

  
Of course Jughead needed protection. A family. But if those things were all that Mick was claiming he needed, Toni didn't buy it. Serpents protected their own, and unless Jughead could provide some kind of value to their gang, push coming to shove was always going to mean a real Serpent came before him. 

Quickly, Toni snatched Mick's hands.

  
"Hey, what are you -."

She smiled as sweetly as possible. "I'm your friend, Reed McTeach. So as your friend, I am asking you to help me help our other friend earn his Serpent colors. Please?"

  
Mick made a face. "Fine. Damn it, sit down. But you've gotta do whatever homework I get from World History for a month."

  
"You've got it, Teach."

  
"Haha." He pulled his hands away as their homeroom teacher came in late. 

"Let's start off with introducing South Side's fresh faces," he announced. "Elizabeth Cooper, raise your hand." Heads in the classroom whipped to the girl with the blonde ponytail. She complied with the teacher's command, albeit half-heartedly. Toni's heart sank with vague disappointment - Elizabeth Cooper was not going to last her first day in the cafeteria on a timid note. Especially not with her reputation from Riverdale.

The girl had written a favoring article on FP Jones last year, which the Serpents appreciated and literally anyone else did not. At least she didn't have to worry about their gang, although Toni knew that no one would be offering her club membership anytime soon. But Toni had to wonder about the one person who'd never mentioned her. One would think after the solid she did his father, Jughead Jones, Riverdale reject, would know Elizabeth Cooper.

She watched the Cooper girl take out a pen and notebook. _Too pure to be pink_ , she thought absently. _What are you doing so far from your old stomping_ _grounds?_

 

 

  
As it turned out, there were no cafeteria tables with an open call for tall bright-eyed blonde girls. Betty stood in the entrance with an empty lunch tray in her arms, her sights skipping over from the handful of leather-jacket students by the wall to a circle of girls in short dark green skirts and layers of eyeliner. Cheerleaders, she noted - she'd been a cheerleader at Riverdale High. She wondered if any credit from the experience would transfer over. She doubted she could win them over even if she'd wanted to.

"Be a door or a window, Barbie," a voice snarled behind her, causing a jumpscare.

She stepped aside for a boy build like Drax the Destroyer and muttered, "It's Betty, jerk." She could feel the eyes of the entire cafeteria on her, sensing her weakness. Maybe it was her clothes. Maybe they'd seen her car. But she wasn't afraid of them - not all of them, anyways. 

And then she got in line for her lunch. She was able to pick out a sloppy joe, mashed potatoes, and some carrot sticks - right before a fist popped under it and sent it flying. She turned around and saw a guy - candidate for the jock table - smirk. "Sorry," he said, walking away. Dejected, Betty stared at the mess at her feet.

"Out of the line!" said Drax the Destroyer, somehow behind her yet again. "C'mon, Barbie -."

"Better door than a window," she snapped. "Yeah, thanks, I got it." 

A boy appeared at her side, his hands full of napkins. Seeing her confused expression, he got down on the floor and began mopping up her splattered lunch.

Joining him down there, she murmured, "Thank you."

He nodded. "You wouldn't have liked it anyway. I'm pretty sure they cook everything here by microwave."

She wrinkled her nose, and he laughed, handing her a napkin. He had a nice face - his Chinese heritage gave him softened edges. 

After the food was cleaned up to the best of their ability, the boy said, "I'm Banks, by the way. Did you want to sit with me and my brother?"

Betty smiled. "My name is Betty, and I'd be happy to."

Banks's brother, it turned out was a twin named Sonny. For a moment, her brain froze, giving her time to reconcile that Sonny's birth name was Sonia Chan. Then, with a smile Betty asked him, "Didn't I see you in Algebra this morning?"

Sonny raised his eyebrows and flipped through his notebook. "Trust me, if you see me in Algebra, you don't have to ask."

Banks grimaced briefly. "Sorry about him. He's rude but harmless."

Thinking of her brother at home, Betty smiled, "That's how I prefer humanity these days."

"I'm just busy," came Sonny's rebuttal.

Seeing the notebook filled with lines of tiny print, Betty took a stab in the dark. "You're writing a novel?"

"Huh. It's a play for the drama department."

"What's it about?"

Sonny broke into a smile, one that was totally different from his brother's. "The son of darkness and daughter of light."

"Oh," she sad quietly.

Banks shook his head. "What he means is - it's an end of times story about the seventh son of a seventh son. In various mythologies, they were supposed to inherit immense cosmic power. But thanks to an apocalyptic prophecy, a hunt wiped them all out."

"All of them but one," corrected Sonny. "Because he's transgender, he can get by with looking like a girl. So what feels like a curse -."

"Turns out to be useful," smiled Betty. "I can't wait for it."

  
Pleased, Sonny pulled out a silver lunch box. "Sushi?" he offered. As Betty and Sonny snacked on seaweed, crackers, and sushi rolls alongside Banks, she began to marvel that she was ever worried about her first day in the first place.

  
"Excuse me," someone said above her shoulder. Betty looked up to find a Serpent standing awkwardly beside them. Betty checked the wall where the rest of his gang was sitting. A girl with short pink hair was also watching, along with a black-haired boy wearing a dark beanie with his jacket. She returned her gaze to the Serpent.

"For Riverdale High, you wrote an article about FP Jones, right?" His tone was slow, careful not to show too much interest.

Betty checked on the expressions of Banks and Sonia's - they seemed shellshocked that this exchange was taking place. And it became clear to Betty that she should be worried, for Reed McTeach to pay her a visit in the middle of lunch -

"Hi. What's going on?" she said, trying not heave from the tightness in her chest.

"I just figured we should let you know. That shiny car of yours outside - it wasn't gonna last long once people found out who you are."

Betty shot to her feet. "How bad?" she asked, panicked.

The Serpent gave a helpless shrug. "Torches and pitchforks. Welcome to the South Side."

Betty ran to the exit, thinking _oh god oh god oh -_

She could hear Banks and Sonny catching up to her once she'd hit the parking lot. When she saw the cherry Mustang, she halted. Just stared, her good mood packed away for the next hundred years.

Sonny said slowly, "I don't understand. The Mustang's ours…" Then he trailed off, understanding. The space next to their Mustang was empty. And in the space where the T-Bird had been, were the words scratched violently on the pavement with yellow chalk. 

_SNAKE BITCH_

 

 


	3. Mud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see a line of cars and they're all painted black  
> With flowers and my love, both never to come back  
> I see people turn their heads and quickly look away  
> Like a newborn baby, it just happens everyday
> 
> \- Paint It Black (The Rolling Stones)

"Josh is going to kill me." Betty felt listless, sitting at a bus stop under a tree. The September summer sun had surfaced at the eleventh hour, and now she, Banks, and Sonny were alternating between sweats and chills from the Houdini trick that the wind was playing. Meanwhile, Betty had barely made it through the rest of the day, compulsively shooting more dirty glances at the timing-challenged Serpents than people were generally allowed to live through. The irony of unfairness was not lost on her - she hadn't wanted to take the Thunderbird to school in the first place. And now it was probably at the bottom of a cliff.

"Do you think anyone's having sex in it?" said Banks suddenly.

 _I guess there are other possibilities_ , Betty thought dryly as she shared a look with Sonny, who admitted, "He's going through a phase".

The bus was going to come round any minute, and she'd been silent throughout most of the wait, but Sonny and Banks had been beside her regardless. This was a level of friendship she would have expected from her friends at Riverdale High. Friends like Kevin, Veronica, and Archie...this sort of predicament would never slide with them. What would they do if they were here?

"You guys didn't have to stick around," Betty said to the twins. "Really, thank you."

"Well, we're douchehats, but we're decent ones -," began Sonny, who stopped when Betty started to walk.

"Hey, where are you going?" asked Banks, standing as well.

Betty took a deep breath. "I'm getting my brother's car back." The Chan siblings looked at one another, uncertain of what they should do next. Longing for the comradery among her Riverdale friends more than anything, Betty held out her arms. "You guys wanna come?" Matching conspiratorial grins appeared - now it was tougher to tell them apart.

"Are we giving a statement to the cops?" Banks wanted to know.

Sonny snorted in response. "With the way they operate? That would result in the opposite of getting the car back."

Betty hesitated. "Actually, I was going to talk to the last people who saw it in the school parking lot before it disappeared."

"You mean the Serpents?" Poor Banks looked ready to choke on his own tongue at the prospect of another dose of Reed McTeach.

Sonny, meanwhile, looked unruffled. "Just as long as I get to throw a punch at the first snake who looks cross-eyed at me."

"Deal," answered Betty, hoping he wasn't being serious.

She turned to Banks, who swallowed. "I guess...I mean, that girl with the pink hair is cute, right?"

Betty giggled while Sonny threw his hands up in the air. "Seriously, bro, find some porn on your phone."

And so they began the trek back to South Side's schoolyard, where Reed McTeach's inner circle liked to drink and burn grass. Sitting on slabs of broken concrete near the basketball court, they looked like they were posing for an updated cover of The Outsiders. Betty could already tell they had a Two-Bit and a Dally in the group, but the black haired boy in the beanie gave off a Ponyboy vibe even though he looked more like the movie version of Sodapop. Which she saw as a good thing, because she still had old movie posters of Rob Lowe hidden somewhere in her memorbilia trunk. Reed McTeach was donning his usual mask of impassivity when she approached with the Chans at her back. That was okay, though - Betty knew how to play it.

"Something you want?" the Serpent drawled.

She willed her eyes to not be drawn to their audience. She was talking to the son of the South Side gang's leader, Jasper McTeach, and only he could send his posse into action. So she stared at him, direct and unyielding. "Well I'd want you to go back in time and tell me someone was taking my car before they drove off with it, but I'll have to settle for your help finding it."

McTeach chuckled and stepped towards her. "And how am I supposed to find it? I didn't see nothin', none of us did. We just got the news from out of the background noise."

Betty shook her head. "You know what? I think that with the dirt you get around this part of town, you can do way better than than a belated warning. You brought up that article I wrote, an article I wrote because I figured you guys over here were fundamentally misunderstood. So if I'm getting hate from your enemies because I saw that in you, the least you can do is give me a hint on where my damn car went."

 _Crickets._ She didn't look backwards, but she entertained herself imagining Sonny bailing to get some popcorn. Banks was most likely penning their obituaries - Herein lies two guys that died because of one girl's big mouth. But she couldn't cut and run - this bold surge only hit her the way some people were hit by lightning.

The dark-haired boy, who'd been listening with rapt attention, said in a low voice, "I'm in."

McTeach frowned, likely mishearing. "In what?"

"You heard her. That's my dad she wrote about." He stepped forward, his gaze unreadable while Betty allowed herself just a hint of a grateful smile.

Seeming defeated, McTeach said, "Yeah, fine. Whatever. Topaz, you're going with Jones."

The pink-haired girl she'd seen earlier blinked in surprise. "I am?"

"Keep him out of trouble."

The girl saluted him and winked at Betty. With the two young Serpents following them away from the others, Sonny finally said aloud, "Alright, we're taking the Mustang."

Banks shuddered. "I guess Dad's going to be waiting at home for awhile."

"He can use a phone. What do we call you two?" He pointed a finger at the new additions.

"Toni," said the girl, while the boy mumbled, "'m' Jughead." Sonny and Banks did a double take, probably accumulating pity points for Jughead because of his name. The remaining introductions were made among them, and then they went to the parking lot.

Jughead stared at the words SNAKE BITCH engraved in the parking space and asked, "Did you say this was here after the car was stolen but not before?"

Betty frowned, trying to remember. "I didn't see it before."

"Oh, that was there before," Toni said in a singsong voice. "I wrote it when I was a frosh." They turned to the Serpent girl, incredulous. She ignored the looks and laughed, "That might rule out our enemies, Juggie. I guess we can just go home."

Jughead rolled his eyes. "If it's not someone we can track, then there's at least one place we can check that punks like to drag their stolen crap to."

Sonny interrupted. "You're talking about The Pines, aren't you?"

"Is that like a forest?" asked Betty.

Toni kicked a pebble. "It's more of a trail that doesn't lead to anywhere bigger. It stops short with a forty foot drop."

Why was that not surprising? Betty sighed. "I guess we'd better catch up before someone on speed tries to fly a Thunderbird."

The front door to the Mustang swung open. "Banks, in the back with the punks," ordered Sonny.

Out of habit, Betty's eyes lingered on Jughead's. "You know, this is your car," she said aloud. "I can do the back if Banks does -." She froze, reading the silent warning in the Serpent boy's eyes loud and clear.

Sonny drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Up to you, but this is your quest, sister. If it morphs into a Fast and the Furious film, then you're going to have to be up here." With his piece spoken, he turned on the ignition.

"I don't mind, anyways," chimed Banks, hopping into the middle of the Mustang. Jughead and Toni came in on opposite sides of him, while Betty took shotgun. Behind her, Banks asked Toni, "So do you have a boyfriend?"

"Ignore him," his brother said loudly, over the revving engine. And the car took off, carrying the oddest collection of people in the history of cherry-red Mustang passengers.

 

 

 

Once Banks stopped awkwardly hitting on her, Toni discovered she liked him alot. With his hapless need to please, he almost reminded her of Tummy, her old pet hamster. It was everyone else in car that she realized she just didn't get.

Yeah, it was cool for Sonny Chan when Betty Cooper stood up to Mick. But for Mick, junior leader of the Serpents, to be shown up by a pastel princess who probably made daisy chains in her spare time? Not so much. She had been crushing on Betty for a bit - she remembered that much - but Mick was absolutely right. She didn't belong around them. The sooner Toni got out of this car, the better. But Jughead - he wasn't talking much. Toni couldn't get a sense of his opinion on Betty Cooper. _Come on, Jones, I thought we were a team._

  
It wouldn't be too long from now. The Pines were only a twenty minute drive from the school. That was why it made sense that anyone who stole a car from the school parking lot would head there. It was a strange kingdom out there, though - trees without a forest.

  
When the road ended, Betty craned her neck. "I don't see any cars at all."

  
"We'll have to walk from here," replied Jughead, opening the door as the car slowed to a stop.

  
"So, not to be nosy," said Toni, which was what she always said when she meant to be nosy, "but why not report your car stolen? See if it can be tracked by higher tech than teens in tennies?"

  
Betty looked so uncomfortable, Toni thought she might not answer. But Sonny and Banks and Jughead were there too, and she ought to have been feeling like they deserved to know why they were needed. When they'd walked for about a minute, Betty said, "I don't know if my brother will let me live with him if it gets too inconvenient."

  
_That sounds harsh_ , thought Toni. "You're not saying he'd throw you out?"

  
"I don't know. I don't know him. I only met him back in June, but it's either that or my parents."

 _The plot thickens_ , she thought, but Toni of all people knew better than to ask why someone didn't want to live with their parents. Her opinion on Betty softening again just a bit, she was about to bring up the suckworthy home lives both she and Jughead had before, but he held up his hand.

"That way," he said quiety, pointing to the right. There, right where the trail split into fork, rested a purple Thunderbird among a stash of other fancy cars. The top was down, letting smoke from a bong freely float to the sky. Bottles of beer were everywhere, from the seat to the dash.

Betty Cooper must have had a long day, because she had no patience at all for the college dropouts squatting there. "Hi," she announced, causing some of them to sit up in surprise. "I'm here to take my car back."

  
"Whoa," said one guy, raising his beer. "I'll give it back to you for like, one million dollars. That's his going rate, ain't it?"

  
Betty shot a startled glance back at Toni, who shrugged. Sonny and Banks were holding some sort of mental discussion that no one else could understand, twin style. Jughead, on the other hand, looked like Tummy when he was trying to find his way out of his little leash. Poor guy, getting stir crazy.

 _Time to be helpful._ "Who're you talking about?" called Toni.

  
One of the other guys, one who looked more traditionally drunk than smoking-high, said, "Her brother - it's Mud, right? He sunk the will when Max's parents bit it. The whole thing was contested, and in the end his shark of an uncle got the whole pie."

"All for one million," grumbled Max.

So this theft wasn't related to the Serpents at all - it was all about Betty's scumbag lawyer brother. And Betty stood there, absorbing this information, surrounded but still on an island. Jughead moved in front of her and asked, "Are you okay?"

Something must have been going on from the other side of that ponytail, Toni decided, because Jughead and Betty were communicating almost annoyingly as Banks and Sonny. Then Betty turned to her and mouthed _distraction_ , taking off in an aimless direction.

"So you punish the lowlife who made you homeless by going after his sister?" asked Toni loudly. "Classy."

One of Max's friend laughed. "We couldn't care less about his sister. We just saw his car and thought it would look good with some dents with it."

"Along with your pals Sam Adams and Mary J, too," Jughead spoke up.

"But damn, the things we hear about her. Down the grapevine, kids at Riverdale are talking about how she nearly killed some meathead. That she's a whack job like her mommy and daddy."

Out of the corner of her eye, Toni saw Jughead's jaw tighten, his fists start to flex. On a macabre level, she'd always wanted to see him hit something. Only this was one of those somethings she hadn't expected to trigger any violence on his part. Then Sonny broke into the scene. "I don't know about you guys, but this looks like at least a three year prison sentence. Maybe four - do you have any fireworks?"

Toni said smugly, "Even Serpents aren't above phoning the cops every now and then."

Max groaned. "Well, can you do that after we push this bird off a hill?

"Do that," said Betty, returning, "And you'll all be walking home." She tossed a metal bottle opener at the dropout's chest, eliciting a yelp.

Banks asked, "Betty, what did you do?"

"I got into the other engines and now they won't run."

For a stoner, Max shot to his feet so fast it was like a cartoon. "You bitch!" he sputtered. "What the hell did you do to my other cars?"

"Oh, you mean the other ones you stole? They're my leverage. I wrecked them so that only I can fix them," she snapped. "Now I will take back the T-Bird, clean it up, and then come back here to un-strand you. Take my deal, or we're all stuck here."

 _Betty Cooper, I will never, ever underestimate you,_  promised Toni, coldly impressed.

 

 

The stoners rising up and yelling at one another was a satisfying scene to drive away from. Once they were back in the urban South Side, Betty thanked Sonny and Banks profusely, to which the twins demurred. "Seems like you can handle yourself in anything," remarked Sonny.

"Except a lunch line," added Banks.

They vowed to talk more about it in school the next day before the Chans drove away in the Mustang. Betty next drove Toni home. The Topazes lived in a partly fallen down double-wide, which tempted Betty to invite Toni to do homework at her house.

Toni smiled congenially, "Nah, pass. Jughead - you want to come in?"

He chanced a look at Betty. "I think I'll just go home now."

Betty knew Toni was troubled by this, although she couldn't say how or why. But she drove from Toni's place to an empty gas station, and slumped back hard into her seat. Jughead let out a prolonged sigh.

"You don't really want me to take you home, do you?" she asked him.

Looking at her very seriously, he said, "I want you to put the top up so that I can touch you without looking over our shoulders."

Betty fumbled for the button that unlatched the convertible, then paused. "Smell that? I think someone left their bong in here."

His head tilted back. "Unbelievable," he laughed, cupping her face and putting his lips on hers. They leaned backward in the seat, kissing hard and passionately until he groaned, "Ugh, I hate this. Can't we just -," his breath caught as she stroked her mouth against his throat, "stop pretending?"

_Can you just stop being a Serpent? Can I change my name and start over so no one will remember everything I've done?_

These questions were hard to hear, and pointless to ask. "Okay," announced Jughead. "Take me home."

 _Just like that?_ Betty sighed and started the engine. "What's it like living by yourself?" she asked. "Being emancipated?"

"Lonely." Seeing the sadness in her eyes, he added, "It's great too. It would just be a lot better if you were there with me."

She nodded. "How about for tonight? I could use some rest."

"Always," he smiled. "But first, you have to help Sam Adams and Mary J out of The Pines -."

She put her face to his and whispered, "It can wait."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Of Rats and Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're caught in a trap  
> I can't walk out  
> Because I love you too much baby
> 
> Why can't you see  
> What you're doing to me  
> When you don't believe a word I say
> 
> -Suspicious Minds (Elvis Presley)

  
The typical evening of an expiring summer was traditionally spent at the old school diner Pop's. If there was any right way to celebrate nice weather, first-day-of-school survival, and a triumphant return from the Pines, it was with milkshakes. Sitting across one another in a booth, it nearly made Jughead feel like it was all the other first days he and Betty had undergone while attending Riverdale High. Adding to that nostalgia was the present company with whom they were sharing the moment.

"So you just left them there?" repeated Archie Andrews, his face a blend of surprise and hilarity.

Veronica Lodge's approval of their actions was far less subtle. "Serves them right! Really, those guys were just lucky I wasn't there," she declared. "There would have been a whole new reason to call them stoners."

Hastily, Betty interjected, "We did go straight back for them, you know."

Although he refrained from saying anything about what they'd been doing in between escaping and returning to the Pines, Jughead couldn't resist a smirk. He did wish he was sitting next to Betty rather than opposite her - keeping his distance in the other aspects of his life was hard enough without letting that space exist around their friends. But he could thank those same friends for such a separation. Resuming a platonic relationship after eight months of dating, Veronica and Archie now found sharing a booth awkward and slightly depressing.

"So how long does this act have to last?" Archie asked them. Jughead glanced at Betty, the pain in her eyes making him ready to throw the back of his head against a wall. "Not too long," he answered, the words a promise to her. "Once I pass initiation, and Betty settles in -."

"And I become more than the ex-cheerleader from Riverdale High," Betty finished, a smile twitching on her mouth. Jughead had been about to say, _and shows that she's much more than the ex-cheerleader from Riverdale._  But Betty was modest by default, and Jughead didn't think he'd recognize her otherwise.

Veronica tossed her black tresses over her shoulder, her scarlet lips curving into a smile of her own. "Well I find it simultaneously stupid and sexy."

"Uh, thanks," said Jughead, unsure whether he was responding to a compliment or an insult.

It didn't matter to the Lodge girl, however. She merely turned to Betty and said, "You need to come over to my house, stat. I think I can help you at least look the part of a South Side student."

Archie chortled at this, to which Veronica shot him a glare. "Sorry, Ronnie," he said, "but how do you have clothes for a South Side student?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "It's called Hot Topic, Archie Andrews. I don't have to have one in my closet in order for it to exist."  
Despite having seen his friend in several compromising situations, Jughead had never seen Archie blush as much as he was right now.

Betty, meanwhile, had a conflicted expression on her face. The storm cleared almost as soon as Jughead had seen it, though, and she said brightly, "Would it be okay if I stayed over for it? I'd love to see how your mom's cooking class is going."

"Betty Cooper, you never have to ask," Veronica announced. But it was her turn to look troubled. Jughead thought he knew why - her mother, while generally warm-hearted and kind, was also of a duplicitous nature. And Hiram Lodge had more toxic layers than a Cuban cigar. Which explained the surprise of them all - Betty never had asked to stay overnight with the Lodge family.

Jughead had an awful feeling he knew what this was about. And an awful fear that the girl he knew and loved would soon become someone he didn't recognize.

 

  
Jughead's apartment was technically a studio just spacious enough for a bed and an XBox - he'd lived at a drive-in movie theater for nearly a year, so he'd become used to the minimalist lifestyle. Yet he always felt a bit self- conscious whenever he brought Betty over to the light-deficient room with moss green carpeting, like a grain of salt trying to tip a scale.

She somehow managed to walk inside with a look of envy. His heart thudded as she fell backwards on his bed and sighed.

"How do you do that?" he asked softly.

Unmoving, Betty said, "What?"

"Come in looking like you're in a chapter of the Princess Diaries. You practically live in a mansion."

She launched herself to a sitting position. "You mean The Glorious Estate of Evil? That's what you called it."

Jughead took a seat next to her on the bed, the darkness of the room yearning for a fire hazard such as candles or a combustible lamp. "He's your brother," he said, his voice quiet as the night. "An ethical crisis shouldn't be the terms of living there with him."

Betty stifled a cry, turning it into a gasp. "What are my options, Jug? I can't move back."

If Jughead had the space and means to move Betty in with him, he would have. Instead he was useless, with all he could do being letting her rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"You gonna tell Veronica, at least?" he whispered.

Her hand curled around his. "No."

He kissed the top of her head, the scent of her sweet vanilla-melon shampoo clinging to his lips. Sooner or later, Betty was going to have to make a choice.

The only thing he could do about it is make sure the fallout didn't hit her too hard.

 

 

The Glorious Estate of Evil. That's what Jughead had called it. Unfortunately, Betty had to return to it before school that morning, to change her clothes and get her syllabuses signed if Josh was home. She hoped Josh wasn't home.

  
The morning sky was a thick misty blue, and it resembled the night she'd first come to this house, bruise on her cheek, proverbial knife in her back.  
_What if_ , she thought, _Mom hadn't been reading my diary? If she hadn't hit me? Would I be happier?_

She hadn't been happy there, with her mother shoving Adderall down her throat and her father pretending he'd never tried to force her sister Polly to have an abortion.

She missed Polly so, so much.

"Josh," Betty said, taking the key out of the door lock and pushing her way in. "You home?"

Her foot stepped on something squishy. A cold jolt flooded as she looked down and saw a dark grey lump on the floor. 

Betty shrieked.

Josh collided into the doors on his way in, something in his hands. A gun.

"What the hell!" Betty cried, leaping away from the decapitated rat.

Josh saw it and muttered, "What the hell, what the hell indeed?"

Betty pointed at the gun. "You expecting company or was that for me?"

Her brother groaned. "Don't be ridiculous. Come here, I'll get rid of that in a moment."

Cringing, closing her eyes and trying to withold the urge to vomit, Betty let Josh lead her to the parlor. While he prepared her a cocktail of Red Bull and ginger ale, she choked out, "I didn't realize there was a rat problem in this area."

"There isn't." Josh slid a glass towards her. He adjusted the glasses on his nose before he said, "I get fanmail every once in awhile. The rat - you can guess the connotations, Betty. Whoever pushed it through the door flap doesn't want me working the case."

"The million dollar case," said Betty slowly, taking in his dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and preppy collared shirts. Her family. He couldn't be a bad person. He had to be good…

"What is the case, then?" she asked him. He drew a breath of hesitation, and she pointed out, "If we're going to be partners in this, I want to know what I'm fighting for."

Josh frowned slightly. "You have to give me your word. You can't tell anyone this. Not your Riverdale friends. Not the boyfriend you've been thinking I don't know about. I know it all, Betty. Gossip spreads like wildfire. Look at what one person who knows about it did just this morning."

Betty gulped. There was no going back. If she was in, she was in. She couldn't tell Jughead...was it worth it?

Josh didn't wait, though. He explained, "Jasper McTeach, leader of the South Side Serpents, came to me before you arrived on my doorstep. He offered me one million dollars to assemble information on Riverdale's elite criminal families. This information would then be passed along to FP Jones."

"Jughead's dad," said Betty suddenly, feeling her heart drop like a stone.

Josh nodded. "We'd be able to use it as leverage to get him released from prison."

"You can do that?"

"I've worked similiar situations before."

They were working together, spying on Riverdale's high-collar criminals, to get Jughead's dad released for prison. Betty marveled at this revelation, feeling her hands tremble in excitement - and dread.

"In that case," she told him, "you should probably tell me what to ask when I visit Hiram Lodge's house this weekend."


End file.
